


Soundworks

by KIASK



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Angst, Love, M/M, Music Store AU, mentions of soft sex, soft, sungpil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KIASK/pseuds/KIASK
Summary: They spend mornings apart, thinking about each other’s warmth.Afternoons filling the shop with each other’s melodies.Evenings soaking each other in through fingertips.Nights tangled in sheets.OrA very soft, sort of emotional SungPil Music Store AU





	Soundworks

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had SungPil on the brain for a while now. I got really emotional while writing this, so if it’s vague and a bit messy that’s why.  
> This one is separate from the Soft Boys works, but still features some very Soft Boys™  
> Please love them and treat them with care. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also...here's your signature [Soft Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/desonawhim/playlist/5O2ZnGP7toJYtNMdYJUk58) to go along with the story.

“Do you mind if I test one out?”

Sungjin doesn’t look up from the guitar sitting on his lap. He plucks away at the top string, watching the dial on the tuner change from E# to Eb, back to E# (Never hitting the mark, always close but always passing). 

“Headphones are on the rack.”

“Oh… okay. Thanks.” 

He hums a soft acknowledgment as the stranger shuffles around him towards the wall of keyboards. Freshly dusted, sparkling, expensive. 

He doesn’t mean to be cold. He’s just tired, and really wants to go home. The shop is empty save for this one customer (A guest. He’s not likely to buy anything because they never do). He continues to work on the E. 

New strings that haven’t been broken in yet. Sungjin’s heart clenches a bit thinking about how the guitar longs to be played but only ever gets picked up once a day while he does his rounds (He tunes, tunes, tunes, hardly playing). 

That’s the thing about guitars. They look all shiny and new and beautiful, but their strings cry as they twist themselves out of tune each day that they are left alone. 

The muffled sound of ivory keys being caressed by knowing fingers can be heard behind the rack. Thump, thump, thump. Sungjin can’t make out a melody because the volume is low in the headphones of the stranger. He wonders about it for a second before picking up the next guitar on the rack, fighting with each note to stay in tune for him. 

 

~*~

On a rainy day he turns on the dehumidifiers and plucks away at the acoustic next to the cash (A familiar friend). It will be a quiet day. 

 

~*~

“Sungjin, right?”

It’s enough to get him to look up at the beautiful stranger. He’s got sharp features but maintains a level of softness about him that Sungjin can’t quite place.

“Can I help you with something?” His face heats up a bit (Did I remember to brush my hair today?).

The beautiful stranger smiles down at him. Sungjin feels the breath leave his body, daring not to come back. 

“It is you!” (Do I know him?).

He wracks his brain to remember where he could have met the one with the seemingly unforgettable smile (But he had seemingly forgotten).

The stranger laughs nervously (Chiming bells).

“Kim Wonpil…” 

Memories come back to him like an old song that hasn’t been sung in a while.  

Wonpil. His friend. His admirer. 

It’s not really that he forgot. They just grew apart is all. It’s been five (six?) years since they graduated high school. They were close but fell out of touch.

***

_ “I like you.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “I said: I like you, Sungjin.” _

_ “Like…” _

_ “Yes. I’m sorry for being too scared to say it sooner, I just didn’t want things to get weird between us.” _

_ “Wonpil… I” _

_ “It’s okay! I just needed to get it off my chest.” _

_ “Wonpil…” _

_ Soft lips touching delicately, warm noses, and flushed cheeks. Sungjin likes the feeling (His friend, his admirer). _

_ It’s the last time they’ll see each other indefinitely. Graduation night. Wonpil is leaving, he’s packed and leaving. His friend who is in love with him is leaving and he’ll never know (Never know what it’s like).   _

_A fleeting goodbye and a horrible ache in his chest. Sungjin doesn’t forget about it, but he suppresses it._

***

“Oh god I thought that maybe you forgot about me. It’s been so long, how are you?”

Sungjin’s words are there when he responds, but he can’t hear them (“I’ve been well” “Ah yes, it has been a long time” “How have you been? Well I hope?”). His mind is flooded with memories. The feeling of rejection, the warmth of a carefully cultivated friendship, a single night that shifted the dynamic but never got to be explored. 

A pause. A moment of silence for the years of love and friendship lost.

“I’m so sorry for losing touch.” Wonpil’s eyes are sad and it leaves a lingering ache in Sungjin’s chest. Like an old wound being reopened. He reaches for his hand, soft unlike his own (Calloused and well worn). 

A slight pressure, relieving some of that which resides within.

“I’m sorry too, old friend.” 

A group of kids play with the percussion. A drum beats low, mimicking the erratic beat of a heart that’s falling in love.

 

~*~

They don’t talk about that night. Sungjin wonders if he should. He wonders what it would feel like after all of these years of forgetting about it (Except that he never forgot about it, not really). 

Wonpil spends his afternoons with the NORD Stage 3. Shiny, expensive, in serious need of love. It warms Sungjin’s heart a bit. He’s not sure if it’s because of the music or because of the company, falling back into familiar routines (Smiles, laughter, warmth).

Sungjin tunes guitars, violins, ukuleles. He fixes things, and occasionally makes phone calls. Wonpil never leaves (But he doesn’t mind).

 

~*~

“When did you move back?”

Wonpil stops playing and looks up to where Sungjin is seated behind the back counter. He’s changing the strings on his favourite acoustic guitar (“Atom” “What’s that?” “I named her Atom” “Why?” “Well loved instruments deserve names. They aren’t just objects, but familiar friends” “That’s beautiful” “Yeah, I think so too”) 

“About two months ago.”

“What took you so long?” The words are out before Sungjin has the chance to stop himself.

Wonpil’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.

“I wasn’t sure where to look… but… I’m here now.”

“Did you know that I would be here?”

“No… but I had a feeling that I would find you wherever I could find music.”

“I haven’t changed much then.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Well… I’m glad then.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t feel lonely anymore.”

Wonpil scrunches his nose a bit. 

“You’re a bit of a hopeless romantic Sungjin.”

Sungjin sticks out his tongue.

“Nah, I’m just hopeless.”

Wonpil’s smile is warm, warm, warm as he turns his attention back to the keys beneath him.

 

~*~

He’s distracted by graceful fingers sweeping along ivory keys as though they weigh nothing despite the weight they seem to carry to those unawares (Those who dabble but never dive). He catches smiles, like rays of sunshine creeping in through the dust. Laughter chimes like bells, voices filling the shop with beautiful harmonies. He feels warm, so warm, so warm (How could he forget?).

“Sungjin… you’re spacing out again. Do you need to rest?” Wonpil brings him back down to earth slowly. 

“I’m okay… I’m okay. Keep playing?” He can’t tell if the words can be heard over the sound of his beating heart. He wants to reach out and touch him, feel honeyed skin under calloused fingertips (How could he forget?). He keeps his hands distracted with the guitar that sits against his chest, held up a worn out leather strap. They sing a song about the morning, something beautiful to be treasured (Something beautiful to be treasured, like Wonpil).

 

~*~

The store feels less empty now that he’s here. He sits by the keyboards, allowing himself to unplug the headset and fill the store with sonatas for their ears only. 

The phone rings but remains unanswered. He refuses to let the grumpy lawyers who work upstairs ruin this for him. He turns the volume up a little bit to drown out the ringing. 

 

~*~

“Hey, Sungjin?”

“What’s up?”

“I still like you.”

Sungjin pauses for a second.

“I like you too.”

There’s a late Autumn breeze creeping in through the open window of the shop. 

 

~*~

Lips break apart hesitantly, the lingering of warm breath making clouds on a cold night. There are too many layers (Of emotion, of clothing, of warmth and other things). 

 

~*~

“Have you ever… with a man?”

“What?”

“Sungjin…”

“No. I’ve never..”

“Let’s not rush things then.”

“Wonpil... “

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.”

“Sungjin… I’m serious.”

Wonpil nudges into Sungjin’s neck. His hair tickles, Sungjin blushes. A warm hand traces hearts onto honeyed skin.

 

~*~

Love floods in, filling Sungjin up and keeping him warm. It’s familiar friendship, with an added layer of warmth. It comes so naturally and feels so right (So,  _ so _ right).

Wonpil still spends his afternoons in the store. He teaches piano lessons during the day, cultivates talent and releases it into the world, happy parents, and happy children alike. He’s charming, so, so charming. They flock to him, and Sungjin can’t blame them. 

He smiles warmly at his boyfriend.

A kiss over the counter, quickly becoming familiar while still being so unfamiliar (Not bad, just new and exciting).

The shop feels bright. 

 

~*~

They spend mornings apart, thinking about each other’s warmth.

Afternoons filling the shop with each other’s melodies.

Evenings soaking each other in through fingertips.

Nights tangled in sheets. 

 

~*~

Wonpil cries the first time they fuck. 

“What’s wrong?” Sungjin panics (Is he hurt? Did he break him?)

“No.. it’s okay… I’m fine.. I’m just…”

Sungjin sits up, taking Wonpil’s face into his hands (Wipes stray tears with his thumb and feels his heart clench).

“Shhh… shhhh.”

“...Sungjin?”

“... Yes, Wonpil?”

“I love you so much.”

“I know. Wonpil, I know. I love you too.”

“It was so hard leaving.”

“You’re here now, what happened back then doesn’t matter right now.”

“Sungjin, it does matter. I’ve… I’ve never been able to love anyone as much as I love you. I missed you so much but I was scared, so, so scared. I genuinely thought that I would never see you again and it broke my heart… and then there you were, with a guitar on your lap as if nothing had changed and I wanted everything all at once. I’m so selfish, I’m so sorry, Sungjin you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, I’m so sorry...”

Sungjin’s heart feels like it’s about to burst. He holds Wonpil tighter, pressing soft kisses to his forehead, his eyelashes, his nose, the corners of his mouth. He continues to cry, and it’s heartbreaking.

( _ I’m here now it’s okay iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou I want to be here.)  _

Sungjin wonders how tight he needs to hold Wonpil until they become one, a single entity created out of nothing but love and longing. He presses warm kisses into his hair until soft sobs turn into gentle breaths. 

Love is delicate.

“You do realise that I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t love you back, right?”

Wonpil sniffles grossly (It’s super cute). 

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m positive about that.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

They make love.

 

~*~

Nights get colder outside but warmer between shared body heat in small beds. Sungjin waits patiently for each kiss, each laugh, each shared melody. He finds himself pulling unfamiliar guitars down from the shelves in the shop more often. There’s a lot of love in his heart now (So much warmth). 

The guitars have stopped twisting out of tune so much. 

 

~*~

Teeth graze dangerously close to skin, stretched with desire, flushed and warm. Tongues find each other in tangled messes of limbs wrapped around limbs around sheets. Fingers entwined, eyes closed, soft sounds. It feels so good (So good).    
  


~*~

Sungjin wakes up early to set up the Nord Stage 3 in the tiny living room of their shared apartment. He thinks about the way Wonpil’s face is going to twist up into a smile, how he’ll probably yell at him for spending so much, how he’ll probably cry despite himself. Sungjin smiles. He really loves that boy. 

(It’s his birthday).

 

~*~

It’s been 3 years. 

3 years since Wonpil looked down at him from where the keyboards were lined against the wall.

3 years since they shared their bodies with one another.

3 years of love cultivated from a lost friendship.

Everything is warm. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, yell with me on [twt](https://twitter.com/kiaskonawhim)


End file.
